


What To Expect When Your Seeker's Expecting

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, fluff mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11822781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Megatron suffers.





	What To Expect When Your Seeker's Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> Not how Cybertronian reproduction works, but who cares, honestly.

Starscream was carrying.

He hadn't any proof, not yet at least. Going to the 'confidential' medic meant half the ship know the results before he did; Hook was such an invasive gossip.

But he knew.

The heavy feeling in his tanks, the ache in his gears, the insatiable thirst, the fluttering sensation in his spark chamber. He was either with spark or dying. The latter would be preferable, but the former was... well, inevitable really.

He guessed it had been about a week, maybe more. Protocols were already coming online, already driving him _nuts_. There were cycles where he wanted nothing more than to tear the internals out of anything that came near him, and there were many more where he could just about manage to lay facedown on the floor and wish he was offline.

Unseemly behaviour; he felt like locking himself away, like a Cosmic Rust patient. Most of the rank and file Decepticons had already begun avoiding him like he really was infected.

It would have been easier to have just told Megatron, get himself some well-earned special treatment. But he was torn between his desire for sympathetic pampering and his inflated sense of pride. He was an Air Commander and formidable warrior, a great asset -and that wouldn't stop Megatron and his cronies from grounding his heavy aft and forbidding combat the second they found out.

Idiots.

The alternative, of course, was just to do it the old fashioned way. Wait until the sparkling was starting to emerge, then he supposed the situation would speak for itself.

That would have worked out perfectly.

"Suggestion; tell him." Soundwave intoned.

Starscream glared at the blue mech, " _You_ tell him."

"Order; tell him." Slightly more stress behind the monotone this time.

"I don't take orders from minions." Starscream folded his arms stubbornly, "You care so much? You do it."

"Keeping information of such importance from your mate provokes distrust," Soundwave droned like he was some sort of relationship expert- single with six kids as he was.

"It preserves my dignity," Starscream said instead, shuddering to think how his trine- how all the seekers would behave if they knew one of their own was expecting.

Soundwave was staring at him though, waiting. He felt himself deflate, embarrassment settling in.

"I... don't know what he'll say," he admitted, refusing to meet Soundwave's visor. "He's not particularly fond of surprises, is he? Nor liabilities for that matter. Which _this_ will be."

"Negative," Soundwave denied loudly. "Lord Megatron has expressed an interest in siring young."

"Urgh," Starscream cringed, "I knew I should have stayed away from him."

"It is too late now for abstinence." Soundwave reminded him. "I expected a more responsible attitude to contraception."

" _Me_?" Starscream could feel his energon boiling, and it wasn't just the carrying protocols. "Don't talk to me about contraception! This is Megatron's fault! He's the one that can't keep it behind his panel-"

"Soundwave; does not need details." Soundwave interrupted, visor darkening in clear disapproval.

"You started this stupid conversation..." Starscream muttered under his breath, scratching at the table top distractedly.

"Suggestion," The tape-deck pushed a datapad and stylus across to him, "Alternative methods of communication. If speaking is so difficult."

Starscream picked up the blank datapad, weighing it in his servo. Well, maybe this could work.

 

* * *

 

Soundwave had completely overestimated Starscream's apparent maturity. How on Cybertron he had earned himself respect enough to make it into Lord Megatron's inner circle, he would never know. A lesser mech might have simply told their leader themselves, rather than danced around the idea with Starscream for hours on end, trying to coax him into it. For someone so proud, the seeker could be incredibly awkward.

Finally, after two arguments, a tantrum, and quite a few threats, Starscream picked up the stylus and hastily scribbled his message to Megatron.

Soundwave had been to shorter peace negotiations.

"Where is he then?" Starscream grumbled, pushing himself away from the table. Soundwave caught him wince as he stood. Aching joints probably.

"Command Centre."

He realised later, when they arrived in the main control room, the monitor banks bustling with activity, full of seekers, and Stunticons, and Shockwave, and Megatron, that he had made a miscalculation. The doors opened and twenty something pairs of optics instinctively focused on them.

Starscream froze in the doorway, datapad pressed tight to his chest, hiding it's contents from view.

Soundwave knew Starscream well enough to predict his next actions.

"Do not-" he tried to say, a moment too late.

Starscream drew his arm back, datapad high above his helm, and launched it like a throwing knife with all his strength. It flew the impressive length of the room, it's corner nailing Megatron with precision accuracy between the optics.

"ARgh!" Megatron's servos flew to the dent, the datapad clattering to the floor. " _Why_?!"

Starscream had already left, fleeing through the doors before the projectile had even met it's target. Soundwave sighed as he approached his fuming leader, knowing he should have expected this.

"What is _wrong_ with him?!" Megatron was still growling, rubbing at his helm. Shockwave had bent to pick up the datapad. Megatron snatched it off him. "Should have that damn seeker committed- What is this?!"

"Apologies Lord Megatron," Soundwave thought it best to diffuse his leader's temper at least somewhat before he read that datapad. "Starscream; delicate."

"When is he not." Shockwave commented hauntingly. Had be possessed a nose, it would have been in the air.

Soundwave was above bickering with his fellow officers. He settled on a long hard stare instead. Shockwave went back to his own business.

Megatron switched on the datapad, flipped it the right way up and-

His face froze, brows drawn down, mouth agape. His expression was caught somewhere between disgust and disbelief.

Soundwave knew he should have read it first.

"Care to explain this?" His leader snapped, flipping the screen around.

THANKS FOR THE PARASITE

Soundwave felt part of his spark wilt and die in it's chamber. Megatron was glaring at him, waiting for an answer.

"It is... a metaphor."

 

* * *

 

Starscream was sprawled across a lab table, beakers and equipment carelessly knocked aside to make room for his frame. It was a hard, cold surface to be laying across, but the gears of his thighs ached, near unbearable. He'd get up in a minute.

The door to his laboratory whispered open. Starscream craned his neck to see over the top of a nearby work bench, expecting over-involved Soundwave, back for a second round of emotional blackmail.

It wasn't.

Megatron made his way through the labyrinth of desks and benches, ducking a length of wire that ran across the ceiling. He took a stool from a nearby bench and brought it to the table Starscream was residing on.

He sat down, arms crossing over his flat grey chest. Still on his back, Starscream lifted his servos to his cockpit, wringing them awkwardly. His optics flickered between the ceiling and his leader's expectant expression.

"...Yes?"

"A parasite?" Megatron's helm tilted to one side as he looked down on him. "Really?"

Starscream shifted, but was, for the most part, thankful that Soundwave had told him. It meant he wouldn't have to. "Don't yell at me, I don't feel well."

"I'm sure you don't," Megatron crossed his legs and leant back, mouth asymmetrical. Starscream thought the old fool looked too smug to possibly feel any real annoyance. "I do find it interesting that you acquired this 'parasite' though... seeing as I distinctly recall you telling me you had baffles."

Starscream stared at the ceiling, denta grinding together. "Well, I find it interesting that I told you to _pull out_... and you didn't."

"So this is my fault?" Megatron nodded, "Of course it is. You bear none of responsibility for lying to me about being on a contraceptive, whereas I am completely culpable for daring to sully your internals with my seed."

Starscream's tank burned, he lifted his helm off the desk to glare at the larger mech, "You did it on purpose."

Megatron's gaze darkened, "Maybe I did."

"Oh, I see how it is," Starscream snarled, wings holding high, extending his profile. "Finally found a way to make your treacherous second heel like an obedient pet?"

"There are easier ways to leash misbehaving seekers than getting them sparked, you know," his Commander told him lightly.

"And you would know, would you?" Starscream sneered, pushing himself upright- and then immediately feeling sick as his helm swam.

"Your protocols have activated, haven't they?" Megatron was watching him closely. And of course he was. When wasn't he watching. The Warlord seemed as unbothered by his defensive posture as he was of the green tinge that must have coloured Starscream's cheeks. He unfolded his arms and stood.

"Come along then."

"I'm not going anywhere," Starscream refused, mostly out of stubbornness, but also an unwillingness to stand lest he purge in front of his leader. Add an additional layer to his current humiliation.

"You're going to the medbay. Hook wants to see you."

"So Hook _knows_?" Starscream cried with considerable attitude, privacy betrayed. "Does everyone?! Did you send out a mass communication? Do the Autobots know?!"

Megatron was staring at him like he was some sort of lunatic, mouth twisted into an appalled sneer.

"Hook has been informed that you are unwell." He began slowly, "He does _not_ know. But if you don't get your aft off that table and march it down to the medbay, _now_ , then the entire ship will be informed, as will the Autobots. So I'd suggest you do as you're told before I lose patience."

Tank churning, not just from nausea, Starscream sat up, suddenly drained of fight. "Alright, I'm coming."

He didn't miss the sudden dimming of his leader's optics. Megatron's servo caught his arm, helping him down from the lab desk with minimal destruction of scientific equipment. "And here I thought your mood swings were already bad."

Had Starscream found the energy he would have punched the smug old clunker in the face.

 

* * *

 

Despite Megatron's reminders that he'd seen it all before, Starscream had demanded he be absent from the room when Hook opened up the seeker's spark chamber.

The stalked the corridor outside the medbay, servos clasped behind his back, helm low, contemplating. Starscream was a notorious liar, but Soundwave was a better telepath. It was unlikely that the seeker could have tricked his Communications Officer, but not impossible. Before he could even consider his own reaction to this, he wanted evidence of it's truth. He needed it.

He shouldn't get his hopes up, but even he couldn't suppress the soaring sensation in his chest at the possibility, however unlikely, that this could be real. That he might have aided in the creation of a whole new spark.

After what seemed like hours the doors opened. Hook stood there with a datafile. The results.

"Come in, My Lord," he stepped back to let Megatron in, "Take a seat."

Starscream was still on the medical berth, heels raised in stirrups from the earlier internal examination. His arms were crossed, chin close to his chest. He looked like the angriest little bird Megatron had ever seen.

He came to the seeker's side and didn't sit as suggested. He gripped Starscream's shoulder vent, giving him a little nudge, but his Second wouldn't meet his gaze.

"The results of the spark scan," Hook extended the file towards him. His expression betrayed little.

Megatron turned it over, ignoring the drumming of his own spark against it's chamber walls as he studied the holographic three dimensional image of Starscream's. The seeker's spark was front and centre, swollen and silver. Surrounding it were tiny blurs of pale lilac. Megatron frowned.

"As you can see," Hook came around to make more sense of the picture, remembering that his leader's experience in sparkology was nonexistent. "Starscream's spark is still irritated from the spilt. The smaller orbs, off-colour, are the new-sparks-"

Hook might have continued talking, but Megatron's processor switched to dull static. His optics zoomed in on the scanned image in disbelief, widening comically. Sparks. Plural. _Sparks_.

He counted.

"There's three of them!" He bellowed. The sudden pressure of his digits on the data-pad cracked the screen. He looked to Hook for an explanation. "Three?"

"Yes, I was surprised too." Hook nodded, sounding far from it. "I've never seen a mech spark triplets myself-"

Megatron ignored him, rounding on Starscream instead, brandishing the datafile, "You have _three_  of these inside you."

"And they'll all have your fat helm, no doubt," the seeker muttered resentfully. He tugged to free his legs from the stirrups, "How far along?"

"Four stellar cycles." Hook answered assuredly.

Megatron cast his mind back. Four stellar cycles, not long after he and Starscream had become intimate in the first place. It seems this was inevitable.

"You don't have baffles." Hook commented, drawn back to his interesting anomaly of a patient.

"Well I thought I'd be safe, considering-" Starscream pointed at him. Megatron scowled, coming out of his shock enough to feel insulted.

"I'm not that old, you stupid brat!"

 

* * *

 

"Why have you been taken off duty?"

Starscream jumped hard enough to launch his energon cube into the air. It splattered over himself and the table as it came back down. Conveniently, it didn't hit Skywarp.

The purple seeker looked sheepish, shrinking back in anticipation of being screamed at. Luckily for him, Starscream just didn't have the energy. He sighed, wiping away the energon dripping down his wing and shaking it off his servo. "I've been grounded."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," he spat, "Your pathetic excuse of a leader has put me in a state unsuitable for combat."

"Oh," Skywarp blinked at him, uncomprehending. "Sorry 'bout the cube. You wanna 'nother one?"

Starscream thought about it, but his tanks had been in turmoil for the last four cycles and the smell of warm energon was starting to get to him, sticking to his olfactory sensors like something sickly and potent. He had purged once already that morning (over Megatron's pedes and that had been no accident) and he didn't need a public repeat of the incident.

"No."

"You feeling okay?" Skywarp's voice softened. He wasn't a particularly empathetic seeker, so it was surprising that he'd noticed. Of course, now he'd only run and tell Thundercracker, who wasn't half as oblivious as most of their faction. Starscream was surprised Soundwave had beaten his trine-mate to the reveal actually.

"I feel fantastic."

"You don't look it." Skywarp scrunched up his nose, "Look like you're gonna purge."

Starscream waved his worries away, swallowing thickly, fighting another wave of nausea. "No. I am- I'm-"

Oh no.

"Screamer?" Skywarp was smirking a little. "Hey, you sure you're-?"

Starscream stood, optics wide in panic, servo clapping to his mouth as he shoved his trine-mate aside and fled for the exit, attracting no small amount of attention on his way. He made it through the door just before his tanks emptied what little remained in them, all over a familiar pair of black pedes.

He heard a sigh, and didn't bother looking up.

"That _must_ have been deliberate." Megatron groused, kicking some the half-processed energon off.

Starscream burped unattractively.

 

* * *

 

There was nothing wrong with Starscream's quarters. In terms of size they were second only to his own. So Megatron wasn't quite sure why the secretive, fickle seeker had chosen to hole himself up in the Command Suite with him.

"Your berth is bigger." Starscream murmured sleepily, shuttered optics just visible above the insulation covers cocooned around his frame.

"Not big enough to fit us both when you're taking up quite so much room," Megatron pointed out, taking in the image of the seeker lying selfishly sideways across the berth.

"Who said I was sharing?" Starscream muttered darkly, one crimson optic lighting and narrowing. "I wish to be alone."

"Have you considered then, being alone in your own quarters?"

"Can't you just recharge on the floor?" Starscream ignored the suggestion. "You can lie beside the berth. If I need you, I'll step on you."

"Or?" Megatron bravely approached the seeker's newly claimed domain, perching himself on the edge of the berth. "I can do something about that back ache you've been complaining about?"

Starscream didn't answer for a moment, clearly running a risk-reward scenario in his processor in regards to lowering his defences around his Commander. Megatron wanted to remind the little upstart that he _was_ the sire to the spawn he was carrying, and therefore shouldn't logically be considered a threat. But Starscream's paranoid glitch was clearly too powerful to be overthrown by something as simple as ancient carrying protocols.

He worked a servo under the insulation covers, gently lifting them away, hoping to coax the seeker out a little.

There was a huff, and the covers came back in a rustle of fabric. Starscream's grumpy face appeared, mouth twisted downwards, optics dim and tired. "My back _does_ hurt..."

Megatron purred his sympathy, shoving away the covers entirely and shifting onto his knees. Starscream squirmed at his exposure, self-conscious of his frame. Megatron honestly saw no difference. Starscream was still aerodynamically flawless, compact and perfect and a thousand other things he wasn't stupid enough to say to the seeker out loud for fear of increasing an already inflated ego.

"Look at these," Megatron rubbed appreciative servos up Starscream's wings, "These things got us into this situation in the first place, didn't they?"

Starscream smacked him away with a scowl and awkwardly rolled onto his front, "Your stupid obsession with them, you mean."

A wing flicked in irritation. Megatron couldn't help but reach for it again, rumbling his desire. "You're teasing me..."

"Get _off_ my wing and rub my back!" Starscream glared at him over his shoulder vent. "The least you can do is alleviate some of the pain you've inflicted upon me."

Reluctant to relinquish the wing, but still happy to lay his servos on any part of a willing Starscream's anatomy, Megatron got to work, pressing down on the small of the seeker's back, and working his way up. The wings fluttered distractedly.

"Hmm," Starscream hummed, the tension draining from his struts. He settled into the berth, helm pillowed on his folded arms. "That's good..."

Megatron leant in, still working his servos up and down the seeker's backstrut, leaning more of his weight into it. Starscream moaned, and Megatron's systems zinged to life, sparking his interface online.

Primus-damned seeker was intoxicating.

"Oh, Megatron~"

He had to be doing it on purpose.

Braving any potential repercussions he let his servo wander, creeping it along a wing, stroking the straight edge. Starscream didn't twist over and start clawing him to death, so he continued, pinching at the tip, his other servo heading southwards for the seeker's panels.

He was about to release his own arousal, let it harden against the seeker's pert aft, when a heavy exhale caught his attention. He looked up.

Starscream was still slumped on his berth, but his optics were offline, mouth agape, drooling a little.

The blasted seeker was recharging!

Megatron repressed the urge to shake him awake (for no good would come of it) and focused on controlling his own spiralling emotions. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and Starscream was going to need every additional rest he could manage. Apparently. 

He climbed off the berth, cheering himself with the knowledge that libido increased with active carrying protocols, and plenty more opportunities would arise. For now, a cold shower awaited.

 

* * *

 

Starscream made a point of sitting in the throne. Sidesaddle. Legs thrown over the arm rest. A case of rust sticks in his lap. Crumbs spilling messily over the seat.

Looks were cast his way, some worried, others morbidly curious. Thundercracker was staring at him like it was the last time they were ever going to see each other, and rightly so. Had Starscream done this under normal circumstances, Megatron would have beaten him to scrap for such blatant disrespect.

Within moments of him planting himself Megatron arrived, fetched by some insipid tattletale no doubt. Starscream wiped his messy digits over the insignia adorning the backrest of the throne, getting it nice and sticky.

Megatron stomped up the steps, shoulders hunched, expression grim. He loomed when he reached the top, calmly but firmly prising the case of rust sticks out of Starscream's servo and crushing them into crumbled pieces.

"I wasn't finished-"

"You are." Megatron said dangerously, and everything about the way his face was enriched with lines of rage told Starscream that had he not been in his current 'state' he would have been dragged from the throne room by his wings by now.

"Had I known you enjoyed my throne so much I would have invited you into my lap more often." Megatron told him. "Now you can either pick yourself up out of it under your own power or I can _attend_ you."

Starscream knew a threat when he heard one. He swung his legs off the arm rest and Megatron stepped back to give him room. But when he went to push himself to his pedes, something failed. He sat, blinking at Megatron's knees.

"Don't make me count to three," his Commander warned, oblivious.

Starscream tried again, pushing charge to his legs. But all he managed was a pathetic scoot across the seat of the throne. Mortified, he realised he'd gone into limp mode.

Curse those power sucking new-sparks, he-

An arm was under his legs, another around his back. Starscream's didn't have the energy to push Megatron away with any level of effectiveness and the warlord hitched him up, bridal-style, for the entire room to see. Flushed from his thrusters to the very tips of his wings, there was nothing he could do but by lie in his leader's arms like a damsel.

He waited until they were out of audial range of smirking underlings and snickering seekers before tugging on the armour seam of Megatron's collar. "Take me to the medbay." He said lamely.

Megatron slowed, optics relaxing from their narrowed position and paling slightly.

"You're," he changed position suddenly, angling Starscream away from him, "You're not going to purge again, are you?"

Starscream sighed heavily, "Just do as you're told, you great lump."

 

* * *

 

Soundwave wasn't present for the sole purpose of irritating Starscream, but Megatron didn't bother to reassure the seeker otherwise. The blue mech stood as a sentinel just inside the door of the medbay, both an experienced carrier to offer guidance, and Megatron's loyal backup against the uncooperative seeker.

"If you can't keep your fuel down you're going to keep falling into limp mode." Hook warned.

"Deactivate the function then." Starscream snarled,

Hook shook his helm, "You'll go into stasis."

Starscream didn't look like he cared, "And?"

"Stasis; detrimental to new-spark development." Soundwave offered.

"Yes, do shut up Starscream," Megatron joined in, "Hook, how can we get him to keep it down?"

"Low grade," the medic said simply, "The diluted formula will-"

"I'd literally rather be offline," Starscream interrupted loudly, as if being the most obnoxious mech in the room would automatically make him right. "I'm not drinking that waste water."

"The alternatives?" Megatron asked wearily, pinching the bridge of his olfactory sensor between forefinger and thumb.

Hook looked uncomfortable for a moment, glancing between the three most senior Decepticons in the faction, "Well, it is the restless new-sparks that are causing the nausea. Closer proximity to their sire would improve their condition considerably. Regular interfacing should-"

"I'll drink the low grade!" Starscream said quickly, throwing out his servos.

"Let him finish!" Megatron snarled, finally hearing something he liked the sound of. He turned back to medic, smiling. "How regular an interface, Hook?"

 

* * *

 

Daily. Surely this wasted more energy than it conserved?

"Stop fretting," Megatron murmured, voice deep and satisfied after his overload. "Let yourself feel good."

Starscream cycled out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, shifting into a more comfortable position beneath his Commander, chest to chest. Their sparks still laid bare, barely a millimetres space between the glowing orbs. The new-sparks orbited Starscream's chamber rhythmically, shimmering in delight each time they passed and brushed their sires. They were soothed, and Starscream felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.

Loath as he was to admit, it was certainly more enjoyable than choking back low grade. Or maybe that was just the lingering overload talking.

His leader's nose nudged at his cheek as his grey helm turned. "They're getting big," Megatron commented. "They'll be strong..."

Starscream hummed his unsure agreement, brushing his servo down the back of his leader's helmet distractedly.

The older mech caught onto his distraction. He dipped his helm, brushing his lips across Starscream's angular jaw, "Doing rather well for your first time, aren't you?"

Starscream thought about it. Over halfway through and he hadn't killed any of them yet. That was commendable, he supposed. "Praise? From you?" He smirked. "You just wanna 'face me again, don't you?"

Megatron shifted, wearing a grin of his own. Something hard prodded Starscream's thigh, still damp from just moments ago. "However did you guess?"

 

* * *

 

"You know, I thought you'd gotten fat."

"Warp," Thundercracker admonished.

Starscream let his servos fall over his cockpit, wondering for the hundredth time if anyone really could tell.

"You look fine." His more mature trine-mate reassured him. "We didn't know."

"We suspected," Skywarp interjected, reclining across his trine-leader's berth. "You were taken off active duty, and you didn't try to kill anyone over it. And I mean, you're always rubbing your chest like something's trying to kick it's way out of you."

" _Somethings_." Starscream corrected, and for the first time he felt proud of the fact when his trine's faces brightened in surprise.

"Twins?" Thundercracker stood, servo extending and then dropping again, not sure he'd be allowed to touch.

"Triplets," Starscream took his wrist and drew him closer, letting his trine-mate touch the armour over his spark chamber. Skywarp came forward to do the same. Starscream glared, but let him. "A ready made trine."

"The sire?" Thundercracker questioned gently.

Skywarp snorted, "C'mon TC, we know who the sire is. Obviously it's Ramjet. Screamer's got a real thing for them conehe-"

The rest of his sentence was lost as Starscream's fist planted itself right in his mouth.

Third trimester be damned, he always had the energy to spare putting a subordinate in their place.

 

* * *

 

"What," Starscream asked, dangling the offending object from his pinched fingers, "Is _this_?"

Megatron's faceplates pressed into an expression of utter confusion. Beside him, Soundwave's visor flashed, like a blink. Neither of them could offer an explanation.

Starscream pointed accusingly at his leader, "I woke to find this," he brandished the flimsy object, "Hanging above your berth. I was nearly strangled by it!"

"You should pay better attention to your surroundings then, shouldn't you," Megatron grumbled, stepping away from the monitors and moving towards him, "You ridiculous thing. Give it here."

He held his servo out, digits beckoning, and Starscream grumpily tossed it over. The long lines of string tangled at the rough treatment, and one of the soft plush 'decorations' twinkled. Megatron nearly dropped it in alarm.

"Soundwave?" He called to his Third questioningly. "What is this and how was it planted in my quarters?"

The idea that someone could have infiltrated the Command Suite right under his olfactory sensor ruffled Starscream's wings. Whoever it was must have been a highly trained reconnaissance officer. Perhaps even the Autobot Mirage, his illusionary invisibility made him a formidable spy and-

"Culprit; located," Soundwave solved the mystery rather quickly. "Thundercracker."

"What?!" Starscream snapped, because firstly _why_?! And secondly, "No, I would have heard him lumbering about!"

"Security footage; reviewed," Soundwave countered with logical proof, "Thundercracker entered Command Suite to plant device. Starscream; Snoring."

"I don't snore." He informed the tape-deck, daring him to disagree.

"You do snore," Megatron said flippantly, then to Soundwave, "Summon Thundercracker. Ask him what on Cybertron this thing is supposed to be?"

Starscream was still stewing from the indignant accusation that he would do anything as uncouth as 'snore' when a sheepish looking Thundercracker finally joined them, looking apprehensive, but far from guilty.

"Care to explain how you gained unauthorised access to my quarters?" The warlord began.

Thundercracker's optics flicked past his leader to his Air Commander, "Starscream gave me the codes."

Megatron turned and gave Starscream a look that implied he would be getting a Security lecture later on, but otherwise didn't comment on that further.

"Alright." He lifted the mystery object, "And what is this?"

"It's," Thundercracker rubbed the back of his neck. "It's an organic- a human thing. They call it a mobile."

Starscream mirrored Megatron's blank expression, "Why would you bring organic trash into my base?"

"It's for human sparklings," Thundercracker explained in the same anxious tone most people used to explain things that had seemed like a good idea at the time. "They hang it over their young to make them recharge. It... It spins and plays music."

Starscream peered around Megatron for a closer look at the thing, pulling on one of the strings. At it's end sat the plush object, colourful and oddly shaped. Upon closer inspection, the shape began to look familiar.

"Is that...?" He began, then was overcome with offence so great he dropped the soft object as if burned. "That's insulting!"

"They're planes," Thundercracker tried lamely, "I thought it would be nice. Primus knows why I bother..."

The fat, overstuffed fabric that resembled an aeroplane in the loosest sense imaginable spun mockingly where it hung. Starscream was ready it online a nullray and blast it to embers, when Megatron started fumbling about with the support ring the string was hanging from, until-

Soft twinkling music rang from an unseen location as the dangling aeroplanes and clouds began to spin. The tune was unrecognisable to Cybertronian audials, but still soothing in a basic, repetitive fashion.

"Destroy it." Starscream said, finding the entire display haunting.

But Megatron, either insane or just so committed to making Starscream's life miserable, smiled at it. "We should keep it."

"What?!" He squawked. 

Opposite them, Thundercracker breathed a sigh of relief.

"They'll enjoy the little planes," Megatron poked at one of the fabric wings, so sure already of his un-sparked offsprings preferences. "It'll remind them of you."

"Can you get these things with dangling exhaust pipes?" Starscream asked his trine-mate snidely, "That way they'll be reminded of Megatron too."

 

* * *

 

Megatron was recharging. This in itself had become a rare occurrence. Regularly sharing his berth with his heavily carrying Air Commander meant he was no stranger to kicks and slaps and sometimes just a wing tip in his optic -and war had made a light sleeper of him.

The (adamantly denied) snoring didn't help much either.

Helm wedged under a pillow to drown out the noise, he snuffled awake, something shoving at his arm. Thinking it Starscream twisting and turning to steal yet more of his insulation covers, Megatron tightened his grip on the little he still clutched, and cycled back to sleep.

He was shoved again. Damn fidgety seekers.

"You better be dead and not ignoring me!" Starscream's voice was loud but muffled through the pillow Megatron had rammed against his audial. Then what he assumed was a thruster stabbed into the back of his thigh, "Get up!"

Megatron rumbled his displeasure, dragging the pillow away from his helm only to glare at his idiot berthmate. His chrono read that it was still the early hours of the morning, and there was no reason for anyone to be awake at such a time.

Starscream was sat up, legs pretzeled and arms wrapped tightly around himself, his optics narrow red slits in the dark. "It's happening."

"Hmm," Megatron rolled his optics lazily, processor staticky where it hadn't caught up with the rest of his frame. He slapped his pillow back over his helm, "'s great, shuddup..."

The pillow was ripped away from him with such violence Megatron's battle-protocols almost self-activated. Suddenly a lot more awake, his optics snapped to full brightness, "What-?"

"The emergence!" Starscream snarled, whamming him about the helm with the pillow, drawing it back to do it again, "Wake up! The sparks are emerging!"

There was a definite edge to Starscream's voice between the pillow whacks that implied the sensation of three new-sparks trying to emerge all at once wasn't very pleasant. Megatron seized the pillow as it came around for another attempt at beating him, but found he didn't need to. Starscream's grip went slack, as did his expression. He bent forward with a choked noise, servos flying to his chest.

Megatron sent a summons to Hook, tossing the pillow aside and manoeuvring Starscream to the edge of the berth. "How long does this normally take?" He asked, wondering if he should bother taking reading material.

Starscream wasn't in so much pain that he couldn't take a moment to level his mate with a glare venomous enough to convey how stupid he thought he was. "It _takes_ ," he hissed through clenched denta, "As long as it _takes_!"

Megatron nodded. Reading material was a must then.

He went to fetch one of his datafiles, leaving Starscream to spit and swear at him from the berth, the poor seeker incapable of pursuing him to physically act on his displeasure.

"When these things are out of me," Starscream told him when he came back to collect the seeker, chosen datafile in servo, "I'm going to make you suffer like no mech has suffered before..."

"I'm sure you will," Megatron pulled him to his pedes, feeling fairly protected by the fact that whatever sedatives Hook was going to give the seeker would likely turn him into a loopy invalid for at least a cycle after the sparking. And by then Starscream might have calmed down.

Starscream's claws dug into the back of his neck when he looped the seeker's arm over his shoulder, "You'll burn in the Pit for doing this to me."

Megatron smirked, arm tightening around the slighter mech's middle. He hitched him closer, "You'd willingly raise three sparklings by yourself?"

There was silence from the seeker for quite a while. As they made their way out of the Command Suite and into the hallway, Starscream's voice was little more than a quiet mumble.

"You'll burn after they've reached mech-hood."

Megatron nodded. That would be more than enough time to work his way back into Starscream's good graces.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is misleading. It is Starscream that suffers most of all.


End file.
